03.2-CHAPTER 3 COME AWAY, COME AWAY! Part2-kv

CHAPTER 3 COME AWAY, COME AWAY! Part2 

When people in our set are introduced,it is customary for them to ask each other's age, and so Wendy, who alwaysliked to do the correct thing, asked Peter how old he was. It was not really ahappy question to ask him; it was like an examination paper that asks grammar,when what you want to be asked is Kings of England.

"I don't know," he replieduneasily, "but I am quite young." He really knew nothing aboutit, he had merely suspicions, but he said at a venture, "Wendy, I ran awaythe day I was born." Wendy was quite surprised, but interested; andshe indicated in the charming drawing-room manner, by a touch on hernight-gown, that he could sit nearer her.

"It was because I heard father andmother," he explained in a low voice, "talking about what I was to bewhen I became a man." He was extraordinarily agitated now. "Idon't want ever to be a man," he said with passion. "I want always tobe a little boy and to have fun. So I ran away to Kensington Gardens and liveda long long time among the fairies." She gave him a look of the mostintense admiration, and he thought it was because he had run away, but it wasreally because he knew fairies. Wendy had lived such a home life that to knowfairies struck her as quite delightful. She poured out questions about them, tohis surprise, for they were rather a nuisance to him, getting in his way and soon, and indeed he sometimes had to give them a hiding. Still, he liked them onthe whole, and he told her about the beginning of fairies.

"You see, Wendy, when the firstbaby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, andthey all went skipping about, and that was the beginning offairies." Tedious talk this, but being a stay-at-home she liked it.

"And so," he went ongood-naturedly, "there ought to be one fairy for every boy andgirl." "Ought to be? Isn't there?" "No. You seechildren know such a lot now, they soon don't believe in fairies, and everytime a child says, 'I don't believe in fairies,' there is a fairy somewherethat falls down dead." Really, he thought they had now talked enoughabout fairies, and it struck him that Tinker Bell was keeping very quiet."I can't think where she has gone to," he said, rising, and he calledTink by name. Wendy's heart went flutter with a sudden thrill.

"Peter," she cried, clutchinghim, "you don't mean to tell me that there is a fairy in thisroom!" "She was here just now," he said a littleimpatiently. "You don't hear her, do you?" and they both listened.

"The only sound I hear," saidWendy, "is like a tinkle of bells." "Well, that's Tink,that's the fairy language. I think I hear her too." The sound comefrom the chest of drawers, and Peter made a merry face. No one could ever lookquite so merry as Peter, and the loveliest of gurgles was his laugh. He had hisfirst laugh still.

"Wendy," he whisperedgleefully, "I do believe I shut her up in the drawer!" He letpoor Tink out of the drawer, and she flew about the nursery screaming withfury. "You shouldn't say such things," Peter retorted. "Ofcourse I'm very sorry, but how could I know you were in thedrawer?" Wendy was not listening to him. "O Peter," shecried, "if she would only stand still and let me seeher!" "They hardly ever stand still," he said, but for onemoment Wendy saw the romantic figure come to rest on the cuckoo clock. "Othe lovely!" she cried, though Tink's face was still distorted withpassion.

"Tink," said Peter amiably,"this lady says she wishes you were her fairy." Tinker Bellanswered insolently.

"What does she say,Peter?" He had to translate. "She is not very polite. She saysyou are a great ugly girl, and that she is my fairy." 

He tried to argue with Tink. "Youknow you can't be my fairy, Tink, because I am an gentleman and you are alady." To this Tink replied in these words, "You sillyass," and disappeared into the bathroom. "She is quite a commonfairy," Peter explained apologetically, "she is called Tinker Bellbecause she mends the pots and kettles (tinker = tin worker).” They weretogether in the armchair by this time, and Wendy plied him with more questions.

"If you don't live in KensingtonGardens now—” "SometimesI do still." "But where do you live mostlynow?" "With the lost boys." "Who arethey?" "They are the children who fall out of their perambulatorswhen the nurse is looking the other way. If they are not claimed in seven daysthey are sent far away to the Neverland to defray expenses. I'mcaptain." "What fun it must be!" "Yes," saidcunning Peter, "but we are rather lonely. You see we have no femalecompanionship." "Are none of the othersgirls?" "Oh, no; girls, you know, are much too clever to fallout of their prams." This flattered Wendy immensely. "Ithink," she said, "it is perfectly lovely the way you talk aboutgirls; John there just despises us." For reply Peter rose and kickedJohn out of bed, blankets and all; one kick. This seemed to Wendy ratherforward for a first meeting, and she told him with spirit that he was notcaptain in her house. However, John continued to sleep so placidly on the floorthat she allowed him to remain there. "And I know you meant to bekind," she said, relenting, "so you may give me akiss." For the moment she had forgotten his ignorance about kisses."I thought you would want it back," he said a little bitterly, andoffered to return her the thimble.

"Oh dear," said the niceWendy, "I don't mean a kiss, I mean a thimble." "What'sthat?" "It's like this." She kissed him.

"Funny!" said Peter gravely.

"Now shall I give you a thimble?" "Ifyou wish to," said Wendy, keeping her head erect this time.

Peter thimbled her, and almostimmediately she screeched. "What is it, Wendy?" "It wasexactly as if someone were pulling my hair." "That must havebeen Tink. I never knew her so naughty before." And indeed Tink was dartingabout again, using offensive language.

"She says she will do that to you,Wendy, every time I give you a thimble." "Butwhy?" "Why, Tink?" Again Tink replied, "You sillyass." Peter could not understand why, but Wendy understood, and shewas just slightly disappointed when he admitted that he came to the nurserywindow not to see her but to listen to stories.

"You see, I don't know any stories.None of the lost boys knows any stories." "How perfectlyawful," Wendy said.

"Do you know," Peter asked,"why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to thestories. O Wendy, your mother was telling you such a lovelystory." "Which story was it?" "About the princewho couldn't find the lady who wore the glass slipper." "Peter,"said Wendy excitedly, "that was Cinderella, and he found her, and theylived happily ever after." Peter was so glad that he rose from thefloor, where they had been sitting, and hurried to the window.

"Where are you going?" she criedwith misgiving.

"To tell the otherboys." "Don't go Peter," she entreated, "I know suchlots of stories." Those were her precise words, so there can be nodenying that it was she who first tempted him.

He came back, and there was a greedylook in his eyes now which ought to have alarmed her, but did not.

"Oh, the stories I could tell tothe boys!" she cried, and then Peter gripped her and began to draw hertoward the window.

"Let me go!"　she ordered him.

"Wendy, do come with me and tellthe other boys." Of course she was very pleased to be asked, but shesaid, "Oh dear, I can't. Think of mummy! Besides, I can'tfly." "I'll teach you." "Oh, how lovely tofly." "I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back, and thenaway we go." "Oo!" she exclaimed rapturously.

"Wendy, Wendy, when you aresleeping in your silly bed you might be flying about with me saying funnythings to the stars." "Oo!" "And, Wendy, thereare mermaids." "Mermaids! With tails?" "Such longtails." "Oh," cried Wendy, "to see a mermaid!" Hehad become frightfully cunning. "Wendy," he said, "how we shouldall respect you." She was wriggling her body in distress. It wasquite as if she were trying to remain on the nursery floor.

But he had no pity for her.